


I Thought You Didn't Love Me

by el_gilliath



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But so is Michael, Feelings, M/M, Minor Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin, alex is an unreliable narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_gilliath/pseuds/el_gilliath
Summary: There are few constants in Alex’s life. His leg is one of them, a nightmare he won’t ever escape, a nightmare he won’t ever forget. The Air Force is another, the reason for most of his misery, the reason he became who he is, be it because of his own enlistment or his dad.Michael is the last. The love of his life, the one man he can’t escape. The man he won’t.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 85
Kudos: 199





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> No happy ending in sight, mostly bittersweet. I might fix it in a second part.

There are few constants in Alex’s life. His leg is one of them, a nightmare he won’t ever escape, a nightmare he won’t ever forget. The Air Force is another, the reason for most of his misery, the reason he became who he is, be it because of his own enlistment or his dad.

Michael is the last. The love of his life, the one man he can’t escape. The man he won’t. 

He lives in a constant state of pain. If it’s not his leg causing him pain, it’s Michael. If it’s not Michael, it’s his PTSD. Flashbacks plague his every day, phantom limb pain as well. He prays to a god he no longer believes in that he can escape it one day, but he doesn’t believe he will. Maybe he doesn’t even deserve it. He’s done enough bad in his life not to, done enough to fuck up his and everyone else’s life to have to live in his misery. 

He tells himself he’s fine with it, that he understands. The voices in his head reminds him that he isn’t. He’ll pretend until he can’t any more. It’s the price he has to live with, for the choices he’s made. 

He watches Michael move on with Maria with a level of dissociation he didn’t know he was capable of, watches as his best friend, the one who stayed, does everything he thought he was finally ready for with Michael. Watches them kiss in the open, watches them hold hands, watches them go on dates. He watches them with an anger he didn’t know he possessed simmering in his belly. He tells Maria in a drunk moment that they’re both lucky they don't have to see it, that they don't have to feel his anger. He praises himself lucky that he’s not the one with the emotional telekinesis. 

He chews Maria out the next time she looks at him with pity. He might understand why Michael moved on, especially with Maria, but that doesn’t give her the _right_ to feel pity for him. She chose to not consider his feelings, he doesn’t want her pity. He knows she gets it, when her eyes narrow and she tells him off for withholding Buffy cuddles. Their friendship will never be the same, as long as she’s with Michael, maybe not even after, but both of them will pretend until they can’t any more. It’s all they have left.

She asks him about the blue haired cutie he’s dating, though they both know he’s just a placeholder, no matter how much Alex likes him. Alex doesn’t want to pretend, he doesn’t have the patience for it anymore. And he wants Maria to know. He wants Michael to know. Maria and Michael dating doesn’t change how he feels, neither does him dating anyone else. Maybe it’s unfair of him, considering he has said that he’s fine with them dating, but he also knows his love for Michael will never go away. He’s still gonna try to smile when he sees them, Michael deserves his support. 

He also knows he’s not successful sometimes, not dissociated enough, when he sees the Maria’s pinched brow, feels the guilt just pouring out of her. He doesn’t tell her it’s fine then, she knows it’s not. Their trust might be frayed, but he still won’t lie to her. As does Michael, by the stormy sadness he can never hide from Alex. He just looks at them then, for a moment, a second, a lifetime, before he turns and walks away. It’s what he’s good at after all.

\---------

He’s not expected to be faced with his own mortality three months later, nor does he expect to be faced with his own failure. He’s been pulling farther and farther away, lost in the depths of his own anger as he combes through the Shepherd files on the hunt for anything he can use. A reupping of his enlistment gave him five more years to finish it, to find a way to keep the aliens safe. To keep Michael safe. He takes it, ~~happily~~ losing himself in the files, turning his back and mind from the things he doesn’t want to think about. He doesn’t answer the phone for anyone, only telling Kyle that he’ll be gone for a while so no one comes looking.

They don’t give up though, he has messages and missed calls every day from everyone. They never drop in intensity, even after a week of being in the bunker almost 24/7, only breaking away to sleep, feed and take walks with Buffy by his property.

Maybe that’s why he misses it, the truck that’s parked by the side of his cabin when he gets home about two weeks after he reupped. He doesn’t notice anything until he walks in through the front door and finds Michael on the floor, Buffy in his lap as he pets her. He shoots a glare at his dog, the big traitor, who just yawns and releases a small boof in his direction. She obviously doesn’t care what he thinks as long as Michael keeps scratching behind her ears.

He wishes he didn’t understand as well as he does.

“What are you doing here, Guerin? Besides cuddling my dog,” he says, talking quietly as he moves around, putting away his jacket, leaving his keys on the ledge by the door. He wanted to come in, take off his prosthetic and give his leg a rest. That’s not happening with Michael there.

“No one has seen you for two weeks, and you’ve only spoken with Kyle. We were worried.”

“If the we in this situation is you and Maria you can get out of my home, I’m not in the mood to be the understanding Alex tonight.”

“It’s not,” Michael says, moving Buffy who huffs in protest before he gets to his feet. “It’s everyone. People notice when you go missing, Alex. People care about you.”

“Good to know,” Alex replies in the dullest tone he can manage as he moves into the kitchen. He’s being a snide little shit and he knows it, but he’s tired. He doesn’t want the temptation. Michael in his cabin, alone, even when he’s been there before, is just that. Temptation.

“Alex, don’t be like that.”

He turns his head slowly towards Michael and raises one eyebrow. “Like what, Guerin? Tired, achy and grouchy because you’re in my home without asking?”

“You gave me a key.”

“For emergencies. Of which this is not.” Alex sighs. “Guerin, just tell everyone that I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Alex, even I can see that,” Guerin says. His eyes are starting to narrow, an annoyance ticking at the side of his temple in a way Alex knows very well. It’s a furrow that only appears when Michael’s frustrated and annoyed with no idea what to do, a sight Alex knows all to well.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you with it. You wanted to move on, so do it. You don’t have to worry about me being hurt”

“Goddamnit Alex!” He doesn’t expect Michael to yell, not this early in the conversation. Michael’s nostrils flare, his eyes taking on a wild look that Alex hasn’t seen a lot. Caulfield was the last time. The shed was the first. “Can you _stop_ talking to me like I’m the enemy? I know you don’t like me very much right now, but just stop, please.”

“Don’t like you very much? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Look,” Michael starts. “I know you’re pissed at me for leaving you alone at the Airstream and I know you’re pissed that I went to Maria without talking to you first, but you said that you loved me, present tense. Telling me that you don’t look away to get me out of a prison that’s about to blow up doesn’t change that.”

“You think that’s why I’m mad?”

“Well, yeah! Most of the time you seem like you don’t care at all, and then you’re suddenly angry and Maria is feeling guilty and I don’t. I don’t get it. You didn’t want to be with me Alex, so why are you pissed when I’m with someone else?”

Alex’s breath stutters to a halt, his heart pounding harder and harder for each second that Michael talks. Like it won’t ever stop beating for this man in front of him, unruly curls and hazel eyes looking at him like he really doesn’t understand why Alex has a problem with any of it. Why Alex has a problem with seeing his best friend date his ex-maybe, his ex-something.

“I...”

Michael looks so sad in front of him, so confused and broken in ways he hasn’t seen in a while. Hasn’t seen since before Max returned to the land of the living, when Michael spiralled and almost ruined all the relationships in his life, be they romantic, friendly or family.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what, Alex?!” Michael yells, papers on his desk rearranging themselves in a clear statement of how frustrated Michael is. “I don’t know anything, because no one will tell me _anything_.”

“You don’t know how I feel,” Alex replies, voice calm, heart still pounding in his chest.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that?”

“You’re supposed to know because I _told_ you! I told you at Caulfield, I told you in the Airstream, I’ve told you since then! Why do you think I keep walking away when I see you with Maria?!”

“I don’t know, Alex! You _always_ walk away from me!”

The pounding in Alex’s chest slows down. Not because he’s calmer, but because it needs too. One moment he’s strung up, tense and angered as he usually is. The next the strings snap, and he’s exhausted. He’s done so many things wrong in his life, protected without telling, walked without explaining. He’s paying for it now, like he always knew he would. And now he’s left with only one option, the last way out.  
“If you want to know how I feel. Then mark me.”  
It’s perhaps the most heartbreaking sentence that has ever left his mouth. Because it means he failed. It means his ability to speak is lacking, that he can’t get his meaning across. It means that he’s standing here in front of the man he loves, and he’s failed yet again to help him understand how much Alex loves him. It means that despite him trying, despite him struggling, despite him working on it, he still hasn’t managed.  
It means words aren’t enough. It means Alex will have to bare his soul, in a way he doesn’t know if he can do.  
It means that even after all that, Jesse Manes is still winning the battle in his head.

Michael is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. It’s what makes Alex’s mind up more than anything, He removes his sweater and walks over to Michael, taking his hand and putting it over his heart. It’s now or never.

“Mark me, Michael,” Alex whispers in the air between them, desperately suppressing the flinch when Michael sucks in a breath and looks at him in even more shock. It’s the first time he’s called him Michael in 10 years. “If I can’t tell you, if my telling you doesn’t make you believe it, then mark me. Let me show you, so you know.”

“Alex-”

“No. I know the consequences, but you can block the bond, I know you can. Just. Please. Let me show you.”

They stand there, for minutes, an hour, a lifetime. Alex doesn’t know how long, he doesn’t care. All he cares about his Michael’s palm against his chest, the hazel eyes searching his, the deep steady breathing he’s doing so he doesn’t panic.

He’s close, when he feels the warmth against his chest. He looks down to see Michael’s hand glowing red, thinks that in another situation it might be beautiful, life changing.

He doesn’t have time to think more of it, as the connection snaps into place. He gasps as _Michael_ fills his head. Pain, anger, frustration, chaos and entropy. All the things he knows make up Michael Guerin. He doesn’t look deeper, this isn’t for him. Instead he pushes his emotions onto Michael, tries to show him the love, tries to show him the affection, the happiness, the joy he has always found in Michael.

He tries to show him the pain he felt whenever he had to leave, he tries to show him the shame he felt everytime he let his dad get into his brain, he tries to show him the anger and devastation he felt every time he didn’t call Michael, every time he missed him, every time he wondered if this was the day he died without telling Michael how he feels.

He tries to show him how much he loves him, that he’s still in love with him. That he never stopped, and probably never will.

He stumbles when Michael wrenches himself away from him, breathing heavily and shaking his head as he backs up against the wall that separates the living room from the kitchen.

“No. You don’t feel that for me.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, just locks his knees and keeps standing.

“Alex! Tell me that’s a lie!”

He still doesn’t say anything. He still just keeps standing.

“It’s not true! Tell me it’s not true!”

“Michael,” he finally replies. “I never looked away. And I won’t, ever.”

Michael looks at him, eyes wide, still breathing heavily, still shaking his head. Alex feels the bond snap, a wall slamming down on his side of the feelings. He can still feel Michael, but he knows Michael can’t feel him.

“No. Just, no.”

And with that Michael storms out of the cabin. Alex hears his truck start, hears it back out of the driveway and drive away and a furious speed. He feels the anger from Michael, well aware of the fact that he’s going to be feeling it for a week. It’s okay, he’ll live with it.

He sits down carefully on the floor of his kitchen, and calls for Buffy. She comes bounding into the room and comes right over, licking his hand as she gets close. He doesn’t let himself cry until she’s safely situated in his lap.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something breaks in him during the next week, he’s not going to deny it. Feeling Michael’s anger, betrayal and fleeting moments of happiness shatters his spirit in more ways than he thought it would, though he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s been broken and patched together over and over since he was a kid, his soul’s ability to splinter to protect itself isn’t anything new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for a part two with a hopeful ending. I would call this hopeful.
> 
> AKA I do not have time for a part 3 but I might anyway *sigh*

Something breaks in him during the next week, he’s not going to deny it. Feeling Michael’s anger, betrayal and fleeting moments of happiness shatters his spirit in more ways than he thought it would, though he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s been broken and patched together over and over since he was a kid, his soul’s ability to splinter to protect itself isn’t anything new. 

It does allow him to dissociate like he needs to, so he can move forward. He can go about his week, texting everyone that he’s packed with work because of his reupping. He can hide in the bunker and lick his wounds. He can go to dinner with another man and pretend he’s 100% there and not breaking from Michael in his head. He can ignore Maria calling him, texting that they need to talk. He doesn’t care. He needs to not care, until the bond is completely gone. 

He doesn’t let anyone of the gang see him, he has too much of Michael’s anger alongside his own for that. He doesn’t trust himself with it. He doesn’t trust what he would say.  
Kyle asks him why, worried as to why he’s not allowed in the bunker. Alex just tells him he needs time. He’s glad Kyle actually listens to him, and leaves him alone. 

He doesn’t want to talk nor think about Michael, around other people. That should only be done in his lonesome, or accompanied with Buffy. She never judges him, just gives him endless love. It’s the first time he’s experienced it. He’s man enough to admit that he likes it. 

She’s his faithful companion, the one who keeps him sane when his leg hurts, the one who keeps him sane when his PTSD acts up. His flashbacks are usually small, triggered by something stupid like a creaking noise in the cabin. Buffy pulls him out of it like she was made for it, even if she’s not trained for it. He contributes that to her amazing doggy heart, and his fucked up childhood which makes his PTSD more manageable than anything. He hates it, detests it. ~~On his darkest days he’s thankful for it, he knows it’s what made him survive the Air Force.~~

It’s the seventh day, when he leaves for home. The bond is fading, slowly, though not gently. He wants to grip it tight, keep it in his head forever. He knows how stupid that is, knows that Michael’s anger in his head will warp his own, that it won’t ever quiet. He’d rather have an angry Michael, than no Michael at all. Stupid as that is. 

He’s looking forward to a quiet evening on the couch with Buffy, feeling sorry for himself as the connection fades, cuddling Buffy and watching TV to get through it. 

He sighs deeply, tiredly, when he sees the red truck in front of his cabin. He’s tired of Chevrolet trucks in front of his home, they never lead to anything good. He contemplates leaving, just driving away, but he knows he can’t. Buffy needs him, as much as he needs her, so instead he parks the car and takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly through pursed lips. A PTSD breathing technique that actually works. 

He exits his car, taking another deep breath and releasing it slowly as he turns to his porch. He already knows Maria is sitting there so he might just get it over with. 

He doesn’t expect her to sit there with tears in her eyes, half her face hidden in Buffy’s fur. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks as he reaches her. Their friendship might be a bit in the awkward zone, but he never wants Maria to cry. She doesn’t deserve it. 

Maria just looks at him. Not like she’s reading him, just looking. He lets her, doesn’t try to hide anything. He doesn’t know if he could. 

“When did you last see Guerin?”

“A week ago, why?”

“No reason,” Maria says. “Just, my boyfriend went to see you because he was worried about you, and now he’s been avoiding me for a week. Besides coming into the Pony to go on benders.”

“Maria-“

“Do you know he has a Alex sense? Whenever no one has talked to you or no one has seen you for a few days, he starts to worry. He starts asking about you thinking he’s so subtle. He can’t keep from worrying, and now he’s acting like Max has just died again, just from seeing you _once_.”

Alex feels his jaw tightening, feels his teeth clench. 

“And I’m trying, Alex, I’m trying so hard to not react badly or get pissed, but neither of you will tell me anything!”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Alex replies. Michael is fading more and more with every second now. “He came here, I told him I was fine and that he shouldn’t worry, and then he left.”

Maria scoffs. “Even if I wasn’t reading you, I’d still know you were lying.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth, Alex!” Maria’s eyes are burning now. Burning with frustration like Michael’s were only a week ago, but also burning with tears. “Just tell me the truth, _please_. Tell me why my boyfriend is so filled with guilt and anger that only drinking can make it disappear.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s over between us. Has been for a long time.” He takes a deep breath. “That’s what he told you, and that’s what matters. I don’t.”

“He marked you, didn’t he.”

Cold fills him, rising in him along with anger. He doesn’t know how Maria knows, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to talk about this, doesn’t want to _think_ about it now that Michael is disappearing from his mind. It’s all anger, all betrayal, all fleeting moments of happiness. He misses it already, and it’s not even gone yet. 

“I told you. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me!”

“Oh now it matters?” He sneers, the anger overpowering him for a moment. He doesn’t notice the way Maria freezes, doesn’t notice the way Buffy raises her head and yips. “Does it matter now, because you’re in the middle of it? Why didn’t it matter months ago, when you went after the one guy you _knew_ I was hopeful about? Why didn’t it matter when _I_ got _my_ heart trampled on? Why does it only matter when something might be hurting _you_ , and not when it was hurting me?”

As soon as he stops talking the wall on Michael’s side lifts, and the connection flares as Alex becomes aware of the fact that Michael can feel him as well. It flares strong, simmering in the bottom of Alex’s stomach, and he knows Michael is standing right behind him. 

He closes his eyes for a second, a moment, a lifetime. He sighs, deeply, painfully. The truth it is. “I let him mark me so he could see how I feel because apparently he didn’t know. I wanted him to know, Maria. I still want him to know.”

“Why?”

He opens his eyes, looks at Maria. He turns his head slightly, seeing the silhouette of Michael standing behind him before he turns to Maria again. 

“Because I love him and I will never stop. He’s the love of my life, Maria. And I fucked up, but so did he.” He sends her a small, sad smile. “And so did you.”

She returns his sad smile, her eyes flicking to Michael as well. Michael hasn’t said anything, but he feels sad now. No anger, no betrayal. Just sadness. And love. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you are Maria, but you’re not sorry for getting with him. You’re just sorry because you feel guilty.”

“No, I’m-“

“Stop. Please. I told you, I get it. I will always get it, when it comes to Michael Guerin.” He walks over to her and leans down, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead. “But I won’t ever completely get over it. And that’s something we both have to live with.”

The bond fades more as he straightens, the momentary strengthening a lie as many things has been in his life. His gaze finds Michael’s, their eyes locking as the bond fades completely. It’s empty now, he’s alone again. And now more than ever, he doesn’t want to be. 

“I think you both should go.”

Maria nods, getting to her feet with another loving pat of Buffy, who’s been sitting quietly by her side. She moves over to Michael and lays her hand on his arm, a loving touch that Alex both hates her for and feels proud of her for. Neither of them expects it when Michael moves away. 

“Michael?” She asks, voice unsure. Alex watches, a nervous prickle in his hands, a glimmer of _something_ starting in the base of his skull. He’s unsure of what it is, but he won’t call it hope. It’s another piece of him, to broken for that. 

He doesn’t say anything, just watches as Michael and Maria has a wordless conversation, Buffy now at his side. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know why he watches, now that he can no longer feel Michael.

He frowns as Maria huffs a sad laugh, looking over at him. He’s surprised when she comes over and hugs him, he can’t do anything but hug her back. He’s even more surprised when she breaks the hug, smiling her sad smile before she gets in her truck and drives off. Leaving Michael behind.

His gaze meets Michael’s again, their eyes locking once more. He doesn’t understand what is going on.

He has a feeling he’s about to find out.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why didn’t you go with her?” Alex asks, his brow furrowing as he continues to look at Michael. He feels blinded, blinded by the fact that Maria got in her car and left Michael behind, blinded by Michael moving away from her touch, blinded by no longer feeling him in his head. “If you came with her-“
> 
> “I didn’t,” Michael quickly interrupts. 
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “I didn’t come here with Maria, I didn’t know she was here. I drove on my own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @bestillmyslashyheart for holding my hand and reminding me that I promised a happier ending. Without you, I would’ve angsted even more.

“Why didn’t you go with her?” Alex asks, his brow furrowing as he continues to look at Michael. He feels blinded, blinded by the fact that Maria got in her car and left Michael behind, blinded by Michael moving away from her touch, blinded by no longer feeling him in his head. “If you came with her-“

“I didn’t,” Michael quickly interrupts. 

“What?”

“I didn’t come here with Maria, I didn’t know she was here. I drove on my own.”

“But… why?” Alex’s head is starting to hurt, as is his leg. The last week is finally catching up to him, the strain of Michael’s feeling on his own, the anger at Maria, the flaying himself open and laying his feelings on the ground. He needs a good day, it’s been a while. He’ll even settle for a better one. He doubts it’ll happen. 

He feels himself sagging, just a little, but enough that Buffy barks sharply. He takes a deep breath and looks at her, smiling down at her and scratching her head as she wags her tail. Unconditional love, it does feel good. 

“Are you okay?”

Alex looks back up at Michael. He looks unsure, leaning slightly forward as if he wants to move closer. Alex doesn’t understand any of it. 

“No, Guerin, I’m not. My head hurts from the bond, my leg hurts and I’m just tired,” Alex answers. Normally he wouldn’t, he’d try to hide it. But he’s already hidden enough from Michael. 

“Hurts? What do you mean hurts?”

“It hurts when the bond is one sided, you know that.”

He watches as Michael closes his eyes, his breathing turns quicker and heavier, a look of nausea comes over his face. He looks wrecked. 

“Have I been-“ Michael’s voice is rough, breaking in the middle of his sentence. “I’ve been hurting you for a week?

“Wh-“

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Alex opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by another sharp bark from Buffy. She starts whining when he looks down at her, her tiny feet moving restlessly as she walks around in circles. He knows what it means, knows he’s starting to smell uncomfortably like exhaustion and pain to his lovely girl. It means she wants him to go inside and sit down, so she can curl up by him and protect him. It means the world. 

“Is she okay?”

“She’s worried,” Alex answers. “She can smell my pain and exhaustion, she just wants me to go sit down.”

“Okay. Okay, we can do that.”

Michael moves before Alex can really register him moving, opening the cabin door with his mind, and walking over to softly usher Alex into the cabin. He moves, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to do. 

Michael leads him to the couch and makes him sit down, moving off to the kitchen where a series of banging sounds happen. Buffy jumps up on the couch with him, sitting next to him with a series of woofs and yips. He knows what she wants, but that’s not going to happen. Not until Michael has left. He settles for petting Buffy instead, exhaling as she doggy huffs in disappointment before she lays next to him, her head on his thigh. This was what he wanted for the evening. Not whatever is happening right now. 

“Guerin?” He calls out. The banging stops and Michael moves out of the kitchen. He has a plate in his hand, with some crackers, cheese and ham he found somewhere. Alex doesn’t know how, until he remembers that Kyle went grocery shopping for him yesterday. “What are you doing?”

“You need food?” Michael asks as he stops in front of the couch. He holds out the plate towards Alex, who takes it because he is hungry and he knows food will help. 

“Thanks,” he replies and starts eating. The food feels like sawdust in his mouth, like regret and anger and less of hope. But he continues eating, because he has to, because he wants to and because it helps him not having to talk to Michael. Who’s standing in front of him, alternating between looking at Alex and looking down on the floor. 

“What are you doing here, Guerin? Why didn’t you go with Maria?” His brain functions are starting to fire again, starting to react in the way they’re supposed to. And with it comes the anger, the anger he’s been carrying for a week. Michael’s anger. 

“I came here to talk to you.”

“Why? What the fuck is there left to talk about?”

Michael opens his mouth to answer, but he doesn’t closing his mind and looking down onto the floor instead. It makes Alex roll his eyes for a second before he catches himself and bites his tongue. His anger shouldn’t affect Michael. Neither of them deserve that. 

“Gu-“

“Have I really been hurting you for a week?”

“The bond hurts when it’s one-sided, yeah,” he replies. “But you know that, Guerin.”

“No I fucking don’t!”

The yell catches him off guard, as does the anger. “You have all the files about abilities from Caulfield, Guerin, it’s how you learned to heal and create a bond.”

“But I didn’t know I would hurt you!”

“How the hell is that my problem?” Alex yells back. “You have all the information!”

“You should have told me!”

“I did tell you!”

“No, you didn’t.” Michael is red in the face now. 

“Yes, Guerin. I did.”

“No, you didn’t. And you let me start a relationship with Maria, _knowing_ that you love me.”

“ _Let_ you? You chose Maria, Guerin!”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have if I knew that you loved me, in the present and not just in the past!”

The air turns abruptly still, a buzzing starting up in Alex’s ears to counteract it. He doesn’t know if he can breathe, around the buzzing in his ears and pounding in his heart. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for this, for hearing Michael say he had a chance when he thought he hadn’t. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to know. 

“That doesn’t change anything, neither does the guilt you feel about the bond even if you had all the files. You have a girlfriend.”

“Do I?” Michael asks. “Or do I have a placeholder for you?

It fills Alex with more anger than he can handle, it bubbles up and burns inside of him. He feels like he’s in the middle of a fire, a scorching hot flame that rages inside of him. 

“Don’t you fucking talk about Maria like that. You chose her,” Alec bites out. “Do you know how much it would hurt her to hear you talk like that?”

Michael scoffs. “Like I haven’t hurt her plenty already?”

“So? You got through that, and you’re happy now. You’re happy, with her. That’s all that matters.”

“But I could be-“

“No, you couldn’t!” Alex yells. “Because I don’t know if I could _ever_ trust you again.”

The silence is back. The oppressing silence that hurts him even more. He wants to lose himself in it, wants to leave it all behind and stay in it. Buffy woofs at him from his side, and he knows he can’t. 

“Michael, you didn't do anything wrong. Neither did Maria. But neither did I and both of you still walked around, flaunting it in my face, not caring about how I could possibly feel. And I don’t know if I can ever get over that.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can look at you in a future where we’re together and not be scared. Not be scared that you going to the Pony won’t mean you regret it, or that you’ll one day think why the hell am I with this PTSD ridden veteran with only one leg when I can be with this beautiful being.”

“Alex!”

“I love you. I’ve loved you every single day since I was 17, and I’ll love you every day for the rest of my life. But you _hurt_ me. I waited at the Airstream for _hours_ while you were with Maria.” Alex swallows roughly, and looks up at Michael. Their eyes meet, and Alex feels a glimmer of something in the pit of his stomach. “How do I believe you, Michael?” 

Michael just watches him, none of them even considering to break the locked gaze they were in. It feels safer than anything has felt in a long time. And for the second time in a short while Alex felt something break. But this time it breaks in a good way, and he could feel the glimmer in the pit of his stomach blossoming into something similar to hope and want.

“You need to figure out what you want, Michael. Maria is your girlfriend, I’m your ex-something. I can’t be a current anything until I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is what you want.”

“But do you...,” Michael began, his voice giving out in the middle. “Do you want to be a current anything?”

“That’s all I ever wanted. Through walking away, through protecting you, through fighting my father to be your family. But do you want it now because you know I love you, or do you want it because I’m no longer just a crash landing?” Alex smiled ruefully at the shock on Michael’s face. “Yeah. The bond was open enough for me to feel something.”

“You’re not a crash landing, Alex.”

“It’s okay if I am, I know I hurt you. But you need to go home. You need to talk to Maria, and you need to figure out what you want. I’ll be here when you do, no matter what the decision is.”

He watches as Michael leaves, feels the glimmer of hope grow. He crushes it as deep as he can, without destroying it completely as he removes the prosthesis and settles on the couch with Buffy as he always planned. It’s what he needs to feel good. He’s still surprised when he wakes up to a new day that feels lighter.

\-------

It breaks his heart anew, when he walks into the Pony four days later, to find Maria and Michael holding hands over the bar. He feels his hope shatter, like glimmering pieces of glass that was too fragile to begin with. It fractures him too, and he feels the dissociation fall over him like a blanket. He desperately wishes Buffy was here.

Guess Michael made his choice after all.

Maria turns towards the door as it shuts behind him. She looks sad, but he doesn’t understand it. She has Michael, how could she be sad? She won, after all, the competition that was never a competition, that never needed to be. How could it be, when his opponent is the gorgeous Maria DeLuca. He knows just how easy she is to love, just like he knows how easy Michael is to love.

Her eyes widen, and she rips her hand out of Michael’s, which in turn causes Michael to turn towards the door. His face drains of all color. Alex doesn’t understand that either. He still smiles, or rather tries to, as they both stare at him wide-eyed. He gives up, and just looks down on the ground. 

“I hope you’re happy,” he says, before he turns around and walks outside. He imagines Michael call after him, but he knows it’s a lie. The white noise is too loud, his eyes are too wet. He doesn’t notice anything as he gets into his car and drives away. 

\-------

He doesn’t know how he gets back to the cabin, it’s lost in a haze of dissociation and pain. He’s lost again, the world spinning in a tornado of grief. He doesn’t know where one end begins, where the other one ends. He’s just lost, hope and want like a thousand little knives punishing for having ever feeling them. He feels stupid, he feels worthless. He feels unloved.

Buffy barks as he nears the front door, he can hear her through the door, her loving barks of wanting him home. He tries to smile, but he still can’t do it, not even for his baby girl. He doesn’t know if he can smile again for a long time.

He doesn’t register the sound of squealing tires, nor does he register the slamming of a car door. But he does register Michael yelling his name. He looks towards the sound, his eyes widening as Michael runs around the corner of the cabin, almost slipping on the wet ground in his haste.

“Alex! That was not what you think it was!”

He feels his consciousness wake just the tiniest amount, deep underneath the pain. Apparently he didn’t lose all the hope.

“We were talking, we’ve _been_ talking about you. About us, about everything,” Michael blurts out, haste to explain himself evident in his everything. “And maybe it’s weird, talking to my newly ex-girlfriend about my future whatever you are, but she understands it. She _gets_ it Alex, she gets everything.”

“Everything?” Alex asks. He’s waking up fully now, his synapses firing the way they should, his pain taking a backseat to the world in front of him. Michael looks scared, desperate. Alex understands him completely.

“Yes, everything. She knew, the last time I was here that I would pick you. Maybe she’s always known. But she ended that us because she knew I wanted a different us. I’ve always wanted a different us, but I didn’t think it was possible. And then you showed me that it was.” Michael swallows. “You might be a crash landing, but I _always_ survive. And you _always_ pick up the pieces. Alex, all I’ve ever wanted was for you to pick up the pieces.”

The door swings open behind him, Michael’s doing for sure, Buffy running out and barking in excitement at seeing them on the porch. She jumps up towards Michael, who smiles as if he can’t help it, leaning down to pet her. And Alex knows he wants to see that, every day for the rest of his life. He wants to see Michael pet his dog. _Their_ dog. It’s the most telling sign he has.

He doesn’t know how to communicate that to Michael but he has to learn. He walks up to Michael and leans down as well, putting Buffy as she wiggles happily at the attention she’s getting. He tangles his other hand in Michael’s, a small smile as Michael’s eyes flit to him quickly enough to almost give him a crick in the neck. He nods his head, one time, two times, several, and smiles wider as Michael beams at him. A smile he’s only seen once, when they were 17.

“But what if I feel like that every time I know you’re near Maria? What if I freeze up and think the worst.” He has to ask, for his own peace of mind.

“Then I will show you, every time, that I never look away,” Michael replies, his hand glowing as he lifts it off of Buffy and holds it up towards Alex. Alex takes it, and presses it against his heart, over his shirt. He can still feel the warmth of it.

“Okay,” Alex says, as he leans into the glowing hand, smiling, with Buffy in between them.


End file.
